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  CHAPTER II.

  MORGIANNA.

  It was early on the morning of June 13, 1796, just twenty years afterthe Declaration of Independence, that Captain Felix Lane, of the goodship _Ocean Star_, was on his voyage from Rio to Baltimore with a cargoof coffee. The morning was specially bright, and the captain, as brave aman as ever paced a quarter deck, was in the best of spirits, for heexpected soon to be home. He had no wife and children to greet him onhis return, for Lane was a bachelor. He had served on board a privateerduring the War of the Revolution and had done as much damage as any manon salt water to English merchantmen. Like most brave men, Captain Lanehad a generous soul, a kind heart, and there was not a man aboard hisvessel who would not have died for him. He preserved perfect disciplineand respect through love rather than fear, for he was never known to beharsh with any of his crew.

  No one knew why the captain had never married. His first mate, who hadsailed under him four years, had never dared broach him on the subjectof matrimony. There was a story--a mere rumor--perhaps without theslightest foundation, of Felix Lane, when a poor sailor boy, loving thedaughter of an English merchant at Portsmouth, England. The mate got thestory from a gossipy old English sailor, who claimed to know all aboutit, but whose fondness for spinning yarns brought discredit on hisveracity. According to the old sailor's account, the fair English maid'sname was Mary. Her father was one of the wealthiest merchants in thecity; and one day when Lane was only nineteen he met Mary. Her beautycaptivated him and inspired him to a nobler life. Mary loved the youngsailor; but it was the old story of the penniless lover and cruelparent. The sailor was forcibly expelled from the house and sailed toAmerica, with a heart full of revenge and ambition.

  He arrived just after the battle of Lexington, and soon shipped aboard aprivateer. Again it was the old story of a rash lover laughing at death,seeking the grim monster who seemed to avoid him. His ship was sosuccessful, that in a short time each of the crew was rich from prizemoney. Four years and a half of war found Felix Lane commander of themost daring privateer on the ocean. He was already wealthy and continuedby fresh prizes to add to his immense fortune. The merchant marine ofGreat Britain dreaded his ship, the _Sea Rover_, more than the wholeAmerican navy. Lane was one of the most expert seamen on the ocean, andmight have had a high office in the regular navy, had he not found thissemi-piratical business more lucrative.

  One day his vessel sighted a large merchantman, off the coast of Spain,and engaged it in a terrible conflict. The merchantman carried twice asmany people and heavier guns than the _Sea Rover_; but by the skilfulmanagement of his ship Captain Lane continued to rake her fore and aftuntil she was forced to strike her colors. When the conqueror wentaboard, he found the splintered deck a scene of horror. Cordage,shrouds, broken spars and dead and dying men strewed the deck. Near thegangway was a middle-aged man holding in his arms a girl mortallywounded in the conflict. He recognized her in a moment, and the scenewhich followed tried all the powers of the old yarn-spinner'sdescriptive faculties. He held her in his arms and wept and prayed untilher life was extinct. It was said that she recognized him and that shedied with a sweet smile on her face, pointing upward to a place ofreunion. The father, who had survived the conflict, was released, andCaptain Felix continued his career a sadder and better man.

  Whether this story was true or not, no one can at this day tell, forJack tars are proverbial yarn-spinners, and seek more after romance thantruth. One thing is quite certain, though, Captain Lane was still abachelor, and had resisted all the advances of beautiful women, until noone doubted that he would end his days a bachelor.

  On this bright June morning a sail was descried S.S.E., and thereimmediately sprang up a little conversation between master and mate asto the probable character of the ship.

  "Perchance, captain, it's a British cruiser," suggested the mate.

  "If it should be, we have no fears."

  "No, for the _Ocean Star_ can show a pair of clean heels to anythingafloat. These British have a habit of searching all vessels they cancapture and impressing seamen."

  "It's ugly business."

  "It will breed another storm."

  "I don't think America will long submit."

  At this, the mate, whose temper was as fiery as his red hair, vowed:

  "If they should board a ship of mine, I would give 'em lead and steel,until they would not care to search or impress any one."

  "They have no such right," the captain answered, and his face grew verystern.

  The vessel, whatever she was, did not cross their path, however, and ina few hours disappeared around some jutting headlands.

  They had only left Rio the day before, and had very light winds. Theland breeze lasted long enough to bring them by Santa Cruz, and theirship drifted along all day between Raza and the main. Toward night thesea-breeze came in fresh from the eastward, and they made four-hourtacks, intending to keep the northern shore quite close aboard, and totake their departure from Cape Frio. The night was very clear, and ateight bells they tacked ship to the northward, heading about N.N.E.;Raza lights could just be discerned, bearing about West. Captain Lanehad come on deck, as was his custom, to "stay" the brig, and, findingeverything looking right, was about to go below, when the man on thelookout cried:

  "Sail ho!"

  "Where away?" demanded the Captain.

  "Two points off the lee bow."

  The captain walked forward to the forecastle, from where he descriedwhat appeared to be a large square-rigged vessel standing directly forthem, with her port-tacks aboard. This seemed strange to the captain, ashe knew of no vessel which had left Rio, except one several daysprevious, and she should have been far on her voyage by this time.

  The stranger approached very rapidly, carrying a press of canvas, and"lying over" to it in fine style. In a short time the stranger wasalmost within speaking distance, and Captain Lane made her out to be alarge heavily-sparred clipper brig. A collision seemed inevitable, ifshe held her course. The _Ocean Star_ was a little to windward of thestranger with the starboard tacks aboard, and Captain Lane knew it wasthe stranger's duty to "bear up" and keep away. He jumped for hisspeaking trumpet and hailed:

  "Brig ahoy!"

  No answer; and the mysterious vessel came booming right on for them withfearful speed.

  "Brig ahoy!" shouted the captain again. "Hard up your helm, or you willbe into me!"

  Still no answer; and, jumping to the wheel, the captain jammed it down,and they came up flying into the wind. Leaving the wheel to thefrightened seaman, he sprang into the port rail, to see where thestranger would strike them. As he did so, that mysterious craft flew by,and the whole sea seemed lighted up by a strange illumination. It waslike a terrible dream--so wild, so supernatural and unearthly. AsCaptain Lane stood by the port rail, he saw right under his quarter, alarge, low, black brig, with her decks crowded with men, and gunsprotruding from her ports; while on the weather rail, clinging with onehand to the shrouds, stood a strange, demoniacal-looking figure, holdingin his outstretched hand, above the water, a burning blue light. On thequarter-deck a little knot of men seemed standing, a short distanceapart from them was a strikingly handsome man, who, from his air ofsuperiority, Lane at once knew to be the commander. His perfectly poisedand graceful attitude, and thorough composure, as he removed a cigarfrom his mouth and motioned an order to the helmsman, struck thebeholder as wonderful.

  In an instant the whole thing flashed upon the captain--_he was apirate_! He had run under the stern of the brig and burned a blue lightto read the name of the vessel, and see if the bird was worth plucking.

  Captain Lane's decision was instantaneous. He knew that the whitefeather never helped one out with such fellows. It was all the work ofan instant. The stranger ran a couple of lengths astern the _OceanStar_, swung his main-yard aback and hailed; but while the boldbuccaneer was doing this, Captain Lane had performed an equallysea-manlike manoeuvre. He caught his sails aback, and his vessel havingstern way, he shifted his helm,
backed her round, and, filling away onthe other tack, stood directly for the pirate.

  It was the stranger's time to hail now. The _Ocean Star_ was a sharp,strong, fast-sailing vessel, and was under good headway and perfectcontrol. Captain Lane then acted hurriedly, but with precision, givinghis orders to his mate and helmsman, and, seizing the cabin lantern andhis speaking trumpet, he jumped upon the topgallant forecastle, and,holding up his lamp, made the master mason's "_hailing sign ofdistress_." He then hailed through his trumpet, in quick, determinedsyllables:

  "Brig ahoy! Unless you swear as a man or as a Mason that you will notmolest me, as true as there is a God, we will sink together!"

  Quick as thought, the answer came back through the trumpet, clear anddistinct:

  "I swear as a Mason! Hard up your helm!"

  "Hard up your helm!" the captain shouted aft, and, paying off like abird, the _Ocean Star_ swept by the stranger's stern near enough toalmost touch her. As they went sailing past her, it became CaptainLane's turn to bend forward with a lantern, and ascertain who his newacquaintance was. There, painted in blood-red letters on the blackstern, was the name

  MORGIANNA.

  He had scarce read it, when the same clear tones, more subdued, hailedhim, as he thought, with somewhat of kindness:

  "Captain, do me the favor to back your main-yard; I will come aboard ofyou--_alone_!"

  Morgianna.]

  The captain gave the necessary orders, and "hove to" within three orfour cables' length of the stranger; and in a very few minutes afour-oared boat, containing but a single figure besides the crew, wasseen approaching the _Ocean Star_.

  Captain Lane had a ladder put over the gangway and threw a rope to theboat as it came alongside; and the next moment the stranger sprang uponthe deck of the _Ocean Star_.

  With an easy grace he gave to the captain the quick, intelligible signof the "great brotherhood" and, taking his arm familiarly, walked aft.

  Captain Lane called the steward, sent for glasses and wine, and, as soonas they were placed upon the table, closed the cabin door, and foundhimself alone with his strange visitor.

  The captain filled his glass and, sipping it in Spanish fashion, passedthe decanter to the stranger. He followed his example, and after theusual interchange of courtesies addressed him:

  "Captain, I have a favor to ask of you."

  "Name it."

  "You are probably not aware of the true motive which induced me to heaveyou to?"

  "I am not."

  "It is this: I wish you to take a passenger to the United States--a ladyand her child. Now that I have seen you and feel acquainted with you, byour common ties, I feel a confidence in sending them by you, which Ishould never have felt, perhaps, with another. Will you take them? Anyprice shall be yours."

  "Yes; I will take them."

  "Thank you. I have a still further favor to ask. I wish to send to theStates a sum of money to be invested in the lady's name, and for heraccount. Will it be too much to ask you to attend to this? You maycharge your own commission."

  "I will obey your wishes to the letter," Captain Lane answered.

  The stranger grasped his hand across the table and, with some emotion,added:

  "If you will do this, and will place the lady and child where they mayfind a home, with the surroundings of Christian society, you will confera favor upon me which money can never repay."

  Captain Lane looked at the man with astonishment, and for the first timegave him a glance that was thoroughly searching and critical.

  He was apparently of about thirty-five years of age, a little above themedium height, with a broad forehead, over which fine, brown hairclustered in careless folds. He wore his beard and mustache long, theformer extending to a point a few inches below the throat. His eyes werebrown, large and full of expression, while in conversation, and a mildand melancholy smile occasionally stole over his features.

  His manners and conversation betokened refinement; and, take him all inall, he was the last man one would have ever taken for a smuggler ora pirate.

  Captain Lane became very much interested in him, and gradually theirconversation took a wider range. In the midst of it and before they hadfully completed their business arrangements in relation to thepassengers, whom Captain Lane had engaged to convey to the UnitedStates, the mate knocked at the cabin door, and informed them that aheavy squall was rising to westward.

  They hurried on deck, which no sooner had they reached, than thestranger, looking hastily in the quarter indicated, shook Captain Lanewarmly by the hand saying:

  "I must go aboard, captain; that will be a heavy squall. Keep me insight if you can; but, if we part company, meet me off Cape Frio--thisside of it--to-morrow; wait for me till night, if you do not see mebefore. Good-by!" and springing into his boat, he pulled away forhis vessel.

  Captain Lane never saw him again alive.

  No sooner was he over the side, than the captain gave orders to shortensail. He took in royals and topgallant sails, furled the courses,trysail and jib, and double-reefed the topsails. They braced the yards alittle to starboard, hauled the foretopmast staysail sheet well aft, andthe captain, thinking he had everything snug, stood looking over theweather rails, watching the approaching squall. The wind had almost diedaway, and the atmosphere seemed strangely oppressive. Captain Lane wasan old sea-dog and had witnessed many strange phenomena on the ocean;but never had he seen a squall approach so singularly. It seemed to movevery slowly--a great black cloud, which looked intensely luminouswithal, and yet so dense and heavy, that an ordinary observer might havemistaken it for one of the ordinary rain squalls encountered in thetropics. Captain Lane consulted his barometer, and found itfalling rapidly.

  "Clew the topsails up!" shouted the captain to the mate. "All hands layaloft and furl them!"

  The order was quickly obeyed; and just as the sailors reached the deck,the squall struck them. It did not come as it was expected; it hadworked up from the westward, but struck the _Ocean Star_ dead from theSouth. In an instant they were over, nearly on their beam ends, and aheavy sea rushed over the lee-rail, filling the deck.

  "Hard up your helm!" shouted the captain, and, springing aft, he foundthe helmsman jammed under the tiller, and the second mate vainlyendeavoring to heave it up. Taking hold with him, by their unitedefforts they at last succeeded; and, after a moment's suspense, the_Ocean Star_ slowly wore off before the wind and, rising out of thewater, shook herself like an affrighted spaniel and darted off withfearful speed before the hurricane.

  Leaving orders to keep her "steady before it" the captain went forwardto ascertain the extent of the damage they had sustained. It was nowintensely dark, the rain falling in torrents, and lightning boltsstriking the water all around them, accompanied by fearful and incessantpeals of thunder. A human voice could not have been heard five pacesaway. The wind, which fairly roared through the shrouds, and the delugeof water upon the deck, were enough of themselves to drown any voice. Byflashes of lightning, the captain soon ascertained that they werecomparatively unharmed, and their spars were safe. Gathering hisfrightened crew and officers about him, he succeeded at length infreeing the decks of water by knocking out the ports on either side.They next sounded the pumps, and found three feet of water in the well.Immediately double pumps were rigged, and the steady clinking of brakesadded to the noises and terror of the scene.

  It was a fearful night, and Captain Lane prayed Heaven that he mightnever see such another.

  About half an hour after the squall first struck them--the captain ofthe _Ocean Star_ was standing with his two officers on the quarter-deck,"conning the vessel by the feel of the wind and rain," keeping her deadbefore the gale--when there came a flash and a peal which made themcower almost to the decks.

  "My God!" was the simultaneous exclamation of all. A long chain oflightning and a heavy ball of fire seemed to shoot from the sky,lighting up the whole sea, revealing, and at the same time striking, inits descent, a full-rigged brig, which, like themsel
ves, was scuddingbefore the gale under bare poles, a few cables' length off their portbeam. The next instant, a fearful explosion, heard loud above theroaring storm, shook the sea, a volume of flame and fire shot up in theair, and when they looked again for the vessel, in the flashes oflightning, it was nowhere to be seen.

  As the morning broke, the gale abated, and settled into a light breezefrom the eastward. They made all sail, and stood to the southward withthe wind abeam, hoping to fall in with some survivors of the wreck.

  Captain Lane changed his wet garments for something more comfortable,refreshed himself with a strong cup of coffee, and, taking his glass,sought the foretopsail yard. About seven bells, he thought he discoveredsome object in the water three or four points off the lee bow. Hailingthe deck to keep off for it, he very soon made out fragments of avessel--spars, water casks, pieces of deck and, as they came stillnearer, a boat; but the captain, even from his lofty perch, could see nosign of any one in it.

  Descending to the deck, he ordered a boat to be cleared away, and,running as near as he dared to the wreck, he backed his maintopsail andtook a long and earnest survey with his glass.

  All hands were watching with anxious eyes the expression on thecaptain's face. He handed his glass to the mate, who carefully examinedevery fragment which appeared above water. The captain looked at themate inquiringly; but neither said a word. The mate handed back theglass and shook his head sorrowfully.

  Again the captain looked long and earnestly; the mate looked again, andagain returned the glass:

  "Poor fellows--we may as well fill away, sir!" he said sadly.

  There was still considerable sea on, and the mere launching of a boatwas attended with more than ordinary danger, added to which was that tobe encountered from the broken spars and fragments of wreck driftingabout. Captain Lane thought of all these dangers, and was about to givethe order to "fill away the main-yard," when something seemed to sayto him:

  "_There is some one in that boat_!"

  This impression was so strong that he felt as if it would be murder toleave the spot without making a more minute search, and he ordered theboat to be lowered at once. Jumping into the stern sheets, four goodoars well manned soon brought him within the little field of fragments,in the centre of which the boat was floating. No wonder none of the crewwas left,--the water literally swarmed with sharks.

  Standing in the bow with a boat hook, the captain warded off pieces ofwreck and gradually made his way to the strange boat.

  The sight there which met his eyes Captain Lane never forgot to hisdying day. When bowed down with old age, and his feeble steps weretottering on the verge of the grave, that scene came to him as vividlyas on that terrible day. Lying in the bottom of the boat was the burnt,blackened and bruised form of a man, which, with some difficulty, thecaptain recognized as the handsome stranger who had visited him on theprevious evening. Clinging to him, with her arms clasped tightly aroundhis mutilated form, a clasp which even death could not break, her fairface pressed close to his blackened features, was the lifeless body ofthe most beautiful woman Captain Lane had ever seen. The look of agony,of commiseration, of tenderness, of pity, of horror and despair, whichwas sealed upon, those lifeless features was beyond the powers ofdescription; but the saddest spectacle of all was a child, a little girlabout one year old, clinging frantically to the breast of her deadmother, and gazing silently at them in frightened wonder.

  For years, Captain Lane's eyes had not been dimmed with tears, but nowthe fountains of grief were opened up, and his cheeks were wet. Hecarefully entered the boat, felt of each cold body, laid his hand uponeach silent heart, and waited in vain for an answering signal to histouch upon the pulse.

  "It is all over," he said, and sitting down in the stern sheets of theboat, he took the child in his arms and sent his men back for sheets andshot and palm and needle and prayer-book. "They shall have Christianburial," declared the kind-hearted captain.

  They went away and left him alone with the dead and the baby. The infantseemed to cling to him from that moment, and the Great Father abovealone knows how strangely and rapidly those cords of love were cementedbetween the bluff, old bachelor sea-captain and the infant. That heart,which he had thought dead to all love since the awful day on board theEnglish merchantman, when he saw the only being he ever loved dying, wassuddenly thrilled by the tenderest emotions. Those sweet blue eyes wereupturned to his face with a glance of imploring trust, and thecaptain cried:

  "Yes, blow my eyes, if I don't stand by you, little one, as long asthere is a stitch of canvas left!"

  The time was very short until his men returned. Wrapping the dead in oneshroud and winding sheet, with heavy shot well secured at their feet,the captain put the little child's lips to its mother's, giving her anunconscious kiss, which caused the men to brush their rough sleevesacross their weather-beaten eyes. Then, reading with a broken voice, thelast service for the dead, the shroud was closed, and the opening watersreceived them and bore them away to their last resting place.

  Jumping into his boat, with the little stranger nestling in his arms,Captain Lane was soon aboard the _Ocean Star_, and with a fair wind andsunny skies was once more homeward bound. The captain seemed loath torelinquish his little charge. There was a goat on the vessel whichfurnished milk, and the cook prepared some dainty food for thelittle stranger.

  "What is her name, captain?" he asked, while feeding the hungry child.She was not old enough to know her name, and there was not found abouther clothes or in the boat anything whatever by which her name couldpossibly be known, so she had to be rechristened. What name should hegive her? He reflected a moment and then, remembering the name on thestern of that black, mysterious vessel, answered:

  "Morgianna!"

  "Morgianna?" said the cook.

  "Yes, Morgianna Lane! she is my adopted daughter."

  The cook smiled at the thought of bluff old Captain Lane the bachelorhaving an adopted daughter.

  After the perils and excitements of such a night, it was not strangethat Captain Lane slept long and soundly. He had good officers, and whenhe retired he gave them orders not to disturb him, unless absolutelynecessary, until he should awake.

  They obeyed the injunction to the letter, and on the following morninghe was awakened by hearing one of the crew ask in an undertone ofthe steward.

  "How is little Morgianna this morning?"

  "Little Morgianna," he said to himself; and then it all came back, andwith it a strangely tender dream which had all night long haunted hisslumbers. The captain rose hurriedly, dressed himself and inquired forthe child, who had been resigned to the care of the cook. She wasbrought to him, a bright, cheerful little thing, just beginning to lispunintelligible words. For a few days she missed her mother and wore alook of expectation on her infantile face, occasionally crying out; butanon this passed away, and she became cheerful and happy. The captainspent as much of his time with her as he could spare from his duties,and as he held the little creature on his knee, heard her gentle voicein baby accents, and felt her warm baby fingers on his cheek, a newemotion took possession of his heart. He loved little Morgianna dearlyas a father might.

  Before that voyage was over, Captain Lane resolved to abandon the seaand retire to his fine estate at Mariana, a village on the seashore nota score of miles from Baltimore. He kept his intentions a secret untilthe vessel was in port; then the merchants with whom he had been engagedin business for years, were astounded to learn that Captain Lane hadmade his last voyage. A nurse was engaged for little Morgianna and thegreat mansion house on the hill within a fourth of a mile of Mariana wasfitted up for habitation. Servants were sent to the place, and thevillagers were lost in wonder.

  The gossips had food for conjecture for weeks, and many were the strangestories afloat. Some of the old dames thought the captain was going tobe married after all. Then the young widows and ancient maidens who hadheard much about Captain Lane, sighed and looked disconsolate. Everykind of a story but the truth was afloat
.

  When on one bright autumnal day, a carriage from Baltimore was seen todash into the village and roll up the great drive, between the rows ofpoplars, it was whispered he had come. One who watched averred that onlythe captain and a child not over a year and a half old alighted from thecoach. (The nurse came in another vehicle.) The child started anotherrumor. She was a mysterious, unknown factor, and the gossips bandied thecaptain's name about in a reckless manner. Good old dames shook theirheads knowingly and declared they had suspected the captain had a wifeall the time in some far-off city.

  "You kin never depend on these sea-captains!" Mrs. Hammond declared.

  But despite all their conjectures, the captain lived in the old stonemansion house with his servants and Morgianna. A few weeks after hisarrival, she was christened at the village church as Morgianna Lane, herparents not known.

  Would wonders never cease? Bit by bit, the sensational story ofMorgianna got out into the village, and she became the object of thegreatest interest. Captain Lane adopted her, and when she became oldenough to accompany him, he seldom went away without her. Morgiannaloved the good old man, who, with all his rough seaman-like ways, wasfather and mother both to her.

  Never had daughter a kinder or more indulgent father.

  As years went on, Morgianna grew in beauty, intelligence, grace andgoodness. Captain Lane was proud of her, and she was never so happy aswhen sitting on his knee listening to his yarns of the sea. Her own sad,dark story had never been told to her,--that was left for the future.